There is a little harbour beach in Sydney called Watson’s Bay. I love to stand on the wooden jetty and watch the water as my daughter swims. The late afternoon sun reflects on the surface and shimmers like liquid gold. A few steps away is the sweetest local library, where we go afterwards and get lost in books. Couscous, the neighbourhood cat, is curled up asleep on their couch. The librarian, Bridget, knows us and asks us how the water is today. This piece speaks to the containment, safety and beauty of those shared afternoons.